


Ladies First

by salishseaselkie



Series: Of Lambs and Lions [11]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, F/M, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 20:34:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5757673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salishseaselkie/pseuds/salishseaselkie





	Ladies First

Cullen was in his office, running over reports from Sahrnia –he had to ensure that Niamh had cleared _every_ speck of red templar stain out of the area – when the very same entered casually through the front door. He glanced up, sparing a fleeting moment to address her with a smile and brief eye contact.

“Inquisitor,” he greeted, a gentle smirk on his lips as she locked his door and walked around to receive a proper welcome.

She kissed his cheek – she’d been especially affectionate since their first night together, which he was _extremely_ grateful for – and chided, “Save the title for the War Room, Rutherford.” He turned into her kiss and a content rumble erupted from his chest as she cupped his head with both hands.

She plopped into his lap as if she had every right to be there and asked, “Dare I ask if you can be torn away from your reports for a few moments?” Her eyes glittered, azure starlight blinking at him, and he could not find the will to deny her.

He set his hands on her waist and answered softly, “For you, I can be persuaded.” She nibbled an earlobe, and already he could feel his office getting warmer and his cock hardening, straining against his linen smallclothes.

This was no time for making love, and he was expecting Rylen to return with a report within a half hour, but she was wanting and deserved satisfaction before he sent her on her merry way. As she tasked herself with his neck, he diligently cleared a space on his desk – not the sweeping motion he’d used when he’d _had_ her there, but stacking the reports and moving his inkwell to the side systematically. He wanted no messes this time - the men had been buzzing for days after the last one.

When there was a place for her, he whispered to her, “Niamh.” She stopped and frowned at him.

She sounded self-conscious when she asked, “What is it? Are you not enjoying yourself?” He smirked and took one of her hands, pressing it against the growing bulge beneath his trousers.

He rumbled, “More than I should.” He pointed to the cleared spot and ordered, “Sit.” She cocked an eyebrow at him.

“As you wish…” When she had done so, Cullen scooted his chair back, the scraping of the feet along the flagstone louder than he’d thought it would be. Perhaps he was a little eager.

He removed his cloak and threw it over the back of the chair, then came to stand between her legs. Putting both hands under her jaw, he slanted his lips over hers, pressing and laving her mouth with his tongue until she opened to him. She tried to remove his cuirasse, but he put her hands back on the desk. “I’ll have my turn, Niamh. Later. But I want you undone before Rylen gets here…” She raised both eyebrows at him, eyes growing dark as her curiosity peaked.

“Cullen…” But he did not stop to explain. He would show her what he meant to do to her. He lay his lips on her neck and then ran his fingers down the buttons of her blouse nimbly. With each button undone, he lay a kiss on her newly exposed skin. When it was wide open, he pushed her breast band up over the swell of one breast and sucked a nipple as a hand came to the other. She hissed as she inhaled sharply, her neck straining, and she made great effort to maintain some semblance of control. He chuckled.

That would never do.

He continued to nuzzle her breast, but brought his free hand to the crux of her thighs, brushing along the soft insides and then pressed against her clothed sex. He felt her shudder all the way up her body and felt the heat of it radiate down into his groin. He knelt, releasing her erect nipple, and attended to where he knew he would find her sweet purchase.

A hand flew up into his hair and grabbed roughly at the roots. “ _Cullen_.” He pushed her thighs wide and pressed his thumb where he guessed her clitoris to be. His knuckles grazed along her sex, and she stared at him, eyes hooded and starving.

He kissed the skin above her waistband and requested, “Lift your hips, darling.” As she did, he untied her breeches and pulled them down to her boots. “Andraste’s blood…” He flushed and set to untying her boots. He would have to buy her some nice dresses, something to make this kind of thing easier…the mages never had this sort of problem in their robes.

She smiled as she watched him, releasing his hair. “Commander, why is it that _you_ are the one who always takes my boots off?” He scoffed, not missing the teasing in her voice.

“Why is it that _you_ insist on wearing them when it clearly benefits both of us to leave them off?” He returned her lopsided grin.

When they were both off, he shucked her breeches and her smalls. “Now…where was I?” The perfume of her arousal hung in the air around her body, intoxicating him. He was simply dizzy with the want of it, but he kept to his task. He’d get his end later, in the remote privacy of her room.

He kissed the tender skin of her inner thigh and glanced up at her from beneath his lashes when she sighed at the touch. “Such wanton sounds escape from your lips, Inquisitor…” She bit her lip, no sarcastic quip for once. He had her speechless.

He dipped a finger into her sex and she scraped her fingers on his scalp. She was absolutely _wet_ with want of him. “Oh, Niamh…” Her face was scrunched up, her lips forming a sensual ‘o’ as she observed his ministrations, and the heave of her breasts as her heart quickened encouraged him to continue. Another finger went to the folds of her sex and he stroked her, spreading them apart to ready her for his true mission.

He lifted a leg over his shoulder and bent his head in to tease her pearl with the tip of his tongue. She yanked on his hair and bucked her hips up to his mouth. He set his hands on her thighs to hold her in place, and she whined in protest. _Vixen_ , he thought proudly, knowing she would always get her way one way or another. He flattened his tongue against her folds and lapped up to the nub, where he flicked and sent her into conniptions.

She sobbed, “Oh, please…” Her eyes were squeezed shut, her body bent back over his desk, and her heel was digging into his shoulder. She was close. He closed his lips on her and sucked fervently, bent on bringing her to pieces.

He slid a finger into her, than another, and curled it against the upper wall. She keened. “Ah-aaah!” She fell back on the desk and her body arced, full and flushed: desire incarnate. He only stroked faster, ground his mouth into her harder, and her body trembled around him as she wailed. There were those who likely heard – he cared not. Let all of Thedas hear of her pleasure, let them know who in all the world can wring this primal lust from Andraste’s Herald, let them hear her ferocity unchecked, and let them know who he is that can unmake her.

She panted as he kissed her thighs once more, bringing her down gently from her peak. Her hand clutched the collar of her shirt to her clavicle, her knuckles white and her chest red. He stood and dropped a kiss to her belly. “Niamh,” he murmured. “Rylen will be here soon.” She looked up at him, pouting.

“But…your turn.” He leaned over her and planted a kiss on her lips.

As he did, he promised in a whisper, “After dinner, you can have me as long as you want…” She grinned wickedly.

“Good.”

She eventually left, her pants and her boots back in place, and Cullen took his seat when Rylen entered.

He saluted sharply. “Ser.” He strode forward to offer Cullen reports back from Griffon Wing when Cullen noticed a slight red tinge to his cheeks.

He scowled as he asked, “Are you feeling well, Knight-Captain?” Rylen cleared his throat.

“Ser…” But then his eyes drifted towards the floor, and Cullen followed his gaze, only to sigh heavily.

He covered his eyes, feeling the all too familiar warmth of blush on his face, and he swore under his breath. “That sneaky minx…” Niamh’s smalls sat in a scrap of lace on the floor next to his desk, likely in a purposeful announcement of their previous activity.

Rylen only smirked, and as he spoke, Cullen could hear an obvious attempt to stifle a laugh. “Is there anything else, Ser?” Cullen groaned.

“Just… _go_.” As Rylen departed, Cullen picked up the scrap of lace. His scowl gradually turned into a smirk as he tucked it into his pocket.

He would most definitely be having his turn later…


End file.
